


Token

by Serinah



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Draco Malfoy Feels, Nostalgia, Prompt Fic, Remembering 8th year, Years Later
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-28
Updated: 2017-07-28
Packaged: 2018-12-08 05:54:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 357
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11640300
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Serinah/pseuds/Serinah
Summary: Draco remembers.





	Token

**Author's Note:**

> It's a prompt fill for 'nostalgia' issued in Facebook group 'DRARRY : fanfiction and fanart'. My first drarry. :)

In retrospect, Draco saw what an idiot he’d been, but at the time, it’d felt glorious. To see Harry dash around in panic looking for his silly token, not knowing where he’d lost it or who to ask. 

Draco toyed with the flimsy piece of a ribbon in his pocket. It was frayed at the edges now, it’s gauzy material a perfect metaphor for how he felt these days: frail, decrepit and insignificant.

Even two days later Harry had been looking for it. The idiot had tried asking professor Vector if he’d dropped it in the arithmancy classroom. As far as Draco knew, Harry had exhausted all his magical means to find the ribbon, but Draco had cloaked it before Harry even realised it was missing.

Now, Draco could freely admit that he’d been a vindictive bastard. The only value the ribbon had for him had been the value Harry put on it. Draco remembered throwing it into his trunk and forgetting about it shortly after Harry had given up. Draco had briefly entertained the idea of throwing it into Potter’s face and laughing triumphantly, maybe even spelling some insult or two into the narrow strip of the fabric, but somehow with one thing or another, he never had.

Yeah, he’d been the most ignorant moron to have graced the halls of Hogwarts.

He still grimaced at the pain of the realisation why Harry had actually needed that ribbon so badly. He still remembered the Weaselette’s laughing voice he overheard from behind the library doors, “Don’t worry about it, it’s just a bow. I’ll give you another,” and the conspicuous ruffling of clothes in the relative silence of the dark corridor.

That was the day Draco had realised that it hadn’t been about wanting what Harry wanted, nor having something that Harry wanted. After all, Draco had never wanted redheaded girls. Well, some day, perhaps, his retrospection would turn into nostalgia and he would smile as he dropped the ribbon into a random drawer and forget about it, but today was not that day. Draco crushed the ribbon in his fist and went looking for his wife.


End file.
